


i'll set fire to the whole place

by RainHolmes



Category: POKEMON Detective Pikachu (2019)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxiety, F/F, Father-Daughter Relationship, Genderbend, Harry Is Trying His Best, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Canon, Reconciliation, References to Drugs, Tim is a mess, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, always-a-girl tim goodman, cis female tim goodman, genderbends as an excuse to write lesbians, i took this idea too far and got carried away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 20:16:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainHolmes/pseuds/RainHolmes
Summary: tim goodman has spent her whole life being angry. angry at the world for taking away her mum. angry at the doctors for not being able to save her. angry at her dad for leaving when she needed him.it’s shaped her into who she is and it’s what has driven her forward.it’s not easy letting go of that anger.(aka: a genderbend fic that takes place before, during, and after the movie)





	i'll set fire to the whole place

**Author's Note:**

> i had a lot of fun writing this even tho no one rly asked for it but hey ho whatever  
this whole fic is the definition of taking smth too far tbh (did i rly need to write 19k words??? probs not but here we are)  
(it could probably do w a bit of tidying up but i just needed to get it up and out of my life, but i might come back and edit a little, who knows)
> 
> tw: swearing, drug use, alcohol, sex, violence, probable mental health issues, and just generally unhealthy coping mechanisms lmao we’ve all been there right 
> 
> title taken from the song burn it down by daughter. it’s p situation appropriate.

Tim Goodman has spent her whole life being angry. Angry at the world for taking away her mum. Angry at the doctors for not being able to save her. Angry at her dad for leaving when she needed him.

It’s shaped her into who she is and it’s what has driven her forward her. 

So coming to Ryme City, and ending up on some sort of rescue mission for her father? That had taken her by surprise. She had vowed never to come here, never to think about him again. But apparently life had other ideas. 

The talking Pikachu was just the icing on the fucking cake. 

But it all seemed to work out in the end. Somehow. The talking Pikachu turned out to actually be her estranged dad (she’s not going to think about that too much), she saved the city (with a little help), and also apparently reconnected with aforementioned father all at the same time (who knew it was possible). 

However, it’s not easy just letting go of that anger. She’s carried it with her too long. A week-long crazy adventure coupled as a family reunion in this strange new city isn’t going to be a quick-fix.

It’s never quite that simple.

*

Timara Catherine Goodman is born on a quiet Friday night to a young couple who weren't really planning to have a child at this point so early in their marriage, but welcomed her nevertheless with enthusiasm and excitement.

They named her after her own mother- Mrs Timara Goodman. Harry Goodman had joked at the time that neither of them would ever know who he was talking to. 

"We'll nickname her Tammy," he decided, smiling down at the small sleeping baby in his arms, tiny hand wrapped around his little finger.

He had taken in the image of his beautiful wife and child, thinking that his life was pretty perfect.

*

Timara's mother is beautiful and kind and lovely and everything a mum should be. 

Every morning her mother would brush her hair, singing to her as she did so. It was a daily routine that Timara kept up even when she was old enough to do it herself. 

Her mother always makes sure to teach Tim the power of self-confidence and self-respect during these morning moments; 

“You can do anything you put your mind to,” she tells her, a morning mantra, as gently runs her fingers through Timara’s hair, “Never forget that. I know one day you’ll be capable of doing amazing things.”

It’s something that sticks with her throughout the rest of her life (even if she doesn’t always think it’s true).

She was happy growing up, even if her dad tended to spend way too much time at work. Her mum just always used to sigh good naturedly, and make some comment about Goodman’s being workaholics. Harry would scoop Timara up into his arms at this, spinning her around and whispering conspiringly to her about how her mum had married a Goodman so she was technically one too now. 

He was funny like that, always making her mum laugh. Afterwards, she never saw him smile or joke like he used to.

Even though her dad loved his work, he would always try to make sure he was there for her big moments. He was the one that took her to her first pokémon battle, a surprise birthday present in the neighbouring region. She had watched mesmerised as a pikachu had fought alongside a boy with black hair and a red cap. They had seemed so in sync, and so beautifully powerful- she immediately fell in love with the sport.

After that day, she announces at the family dinner that she wants to be a famous pokémon trainer. Her parents had smiled at each other, amused but supportive. They always took her one hundred percent seriously, never doubting her ability or laughing at her. Timara’s christmas presents that year included pokémon training magazines and batting gear. 

From then on her dad had taken her to even more pokémon battles whenever he got a couple days off work. It became a tradition for them. She would spend her time in class doodling all the different pokémon they got to see, daydreaming of their next day trip.

“Champion Trainer Tammy,” Harry used to call her, pulling down her pokémon trainer hat over her head, as they drove to the next tournament. 

Everything was brilliant.

Or at least it was until That Day.

One moment they're all in the kitchen and Timara is excitedly telling her parents about her first official league battle that’s scheduled for today, and the next minute her mum is doubled over the kitchen counter, Harry standing behind her, intense worry on his face. 

Timara has no idea what’s going on.

Her grandma is the one to phone the ambulance, while her dad hovers beside her mum, holding her startling pale hand, and whispering to her comfortingly. 

It all seems to pass in a confused blur to Timara. The ambulance arrives quickly, the pokémon assistants helping the paramedics to get her mum outside and into the vehicle, her dad never straying from her mother’s side.

At some point he kneels down and grips Timara’s hand tightly, telling her that they’ll both be back as soon as possible, before disappearing behind the closed doors of the ambulance. And then it drives away, sirens blaring and lights on.

She watches helplessly until it disappears around the corner, and stays there frozen even after that, until her grandmother places a hand on her shoulder and guides her inside.

It’s the last time she’ll ever see her mother. If she’d known that at the time she might’ve forced her way into the ambulance, forced her way into the hospital room, and been able to tell her mother how much she loved her one last time.

As it is, the last thing she ever tells her mother is about pokémon training.

Looking back, all she can think about is how that’s a pretty shit last conversation.

After her dad gets back that evening, after the thunderstorm stops, after her grandma and dad have shakily stopped crying, and after her dad comes upstairs and tells her what’s happened in a gentle, but toneless voice, wet eyes never meeting hers- she decides that she never wants to have anything to do with pokémon training ever again.

She was meant to start her trainer journey that day, and instead her mother died. That’s probably a bad sign, right? How is she supposed to associate something that once brought her so much joy with anything but pain now? She can’t even look at the trophies or posters in her room without feeling sick. 

She rips down them all down that night, and shoves them under her bed, before collapsing on the blankets in tears. She’s so angry. Everything was perfect. She had a good family, dreams that were finally materialising.

And now her mum’s dead. She can’t let herself focus on that for too long or else she’s so overcome by visceral grief that she can’t even breathe, can’t even move, can’t even think- but at the same time she can’t stop. It’s the only thing in her head.

When her dad leaves Leaventown, leaving his old life and her behind too, this only strengthens her conviction that pokémon training clearly wasn’t meant for her.

The funeral is probably one of the worst days of her life. 

She hasn’t spoken much to her dad in the days leading up to it. Their house has been quiet, neither of them knowing what to do. It’s almost been like living in a house full of ghosts. The most she’s seen of him is a pale figure, sitting on their shared bed, or staring blankly at the family photographs in the living room. Her grandmother is the one that takes it upon herself to look after Timara, in those first few blurry days of sharp loss that all seem to run into one. She forces her to eat, and to continue breathing, moving, existing. 

The ceremony is quiet, but well attended- people liked her mother, and she was known by many in their town. Lots of people come up to her to tell her how much her mother meant to them, and share their condolences, but Timara can’t do much more than twitch her lips at them in some attempt at a thankful smile. 

She doesn’t want their kind words. What she wants is for her mum to not be dead. She doesn’t want there to be a reason for all these people to be talking to her.

Once it’s over, and all the people have left, she finds herself left alone in the kitchen of their family home, her father having ended up sitting opposite her. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been sitting in silence, the ticking of the clock the only noise as they both stare numbly into space.

At some point however, her dad clears his throat, bringing his tired, red eyes to focus on hers. 

“Tammy,” he starts, voice uneven and thick, “I need to tell you something.”

She doesn’t know how to reply, so she just looks at him, eyes wide and worried.

Harry rubs the back of his neck nervously, before clenching his jaw and steeling himself for whatever he’s about to say.

“I’m going to be moving away for work. To the city-” he tries to explain, “I knew about this- well, before... before everything- but I wasn’t going to take it- but obviously things have,” he rubs his hands over his eyebrows and down the rest of his face heavily, “things have changed.”

She feels like there’s a weight dropped in her stomach. She’s frozen in place, only able to rub her ankles together nervously under the table.

“You’re moving...away?” She asks him slowly, blinking confusedly.

He nods in response. 

“Yes,” He clarifies, looking more at the ground than her now, “But kid, obviously you will come and live with me as soon as possible.” 

He’s saying it in a tone that seems to convey that he expects this to make it okay. But she’s not sure it is.

“You’re leaving…” She tries again, trying to make it sound right.

He’s looking unhappy now, face grimaced. 

“I’m sorry.” He says. It’s all he can say. 

*

It’s a couple months later, and she’s standing on the station platform, waiting to board the train that will take her away to the city where her dad now lives.

He’d left within days of their conversation. It had initially left her in shock, but that had quickly transformed into anger.

He’d just left her alone in her grief, running away to be with the pokémon he was saving instead. Wasn’t she important too? The past months have been awful. It was like both her parents were gone instead of one. What she needed was her dad, to comfort and grieve with. Her grandmother was trying her best, but it wasn’t the same. She thinks she understands now what her mum meant when she called Harry a workaholic. It’s like he’s trying to ignore everything that’s happened by focusing purely on his job. Unfortunately that means he’s ignoring Timara as well. It’s at the time that she needs him the most too. 

She can feel all of that frustration and resentment running through her now. It’s like there’s an emotive energy running under her skin, keeping her awake and jittery. She’s restless, tapping her fingers and feet in irritation. 

”Your dad will meet you at the station, Tim,” her grandmother tells her, interrupting her thoughts.

She doesn’t go by Timara anymore, nor Tammy. Timara reminds her too much of her mum, and Tammy too much of her dad. They’re both tainted names now. Everything in her life seems to become eventually tainted.

She can see the train pulling up to the platform now. People are rushing around them, in anticipation of the doors opening. 

She’s overcome by a moment of panic and anger, all mixed into one. All she can think about is how painful it was having her dad wave her goodbye at this exact platform, days after losing Mum. 

It dawns on her in that moment that she doesn’t want to go. After all, why should she get on the train and join her dad? _He_ choose to leave her. 

She knows that this will hurt him as much as he hurt her. She thinks that’s maybe a good thing.

She turns to her grandma and makes the decision that will change her life.

“I’m not going.”

*

It’s almost funny to Tim that right before she finds out that Harry is dead, her friend is expressing worry over her well-being.

There’s always something for people to be worried about when it comes to her apparently.

She doesn’t recognise the voice on the phone, nor the number, but when she hears the name ‘Harry Goodman’ her whole body freezes. It’s the first time anyone has said that name to her in years.

“There’s been a car accident,” the voicemail message tells her. 

She doesn’t even need to listen to the next bit to know what he’s going to say. She recognises that exact tone of voice- it’s haunted her dreams ever since that stormy night. 

It’s like a hard slap in the face to have it being used on her again. She never really imagined this would happen. She knew Harry’s job was dangerous, but never like this. The whole world stops for a second, and she closes her eyes, breathing in. 

She’s hit with a pulse of shock, sadness, anger, and also an intense flash of regret that takes her by surprise.

It’s gone before she can process it, fading away as an icy stupor wades over her. 

She breathes out, and opens her eyes to meet Jack’s worried gaze.

*

“You can still come to live with me when you’re ready, Tammy,” her dad reassures her over the phone, voice fragile.

Her grandmother had forced the landline into her hands, having called Harry to explain that Tim would no longer be arriving in Ryme City today. She could hear them both on the phone in the next room, Harry’s increasingly stressed voice asking her Grandma what had happened. 

“I’ve got your room all set up,” he continues, “It’s almost the same as your old one- with your favourite Pikachu headboard, and posters. I think you’ll like it, kid.”

“What if I’m never ready?” She asks curtly, cutting through and ignoring everything else. She doesn’t care about her room, or her posters anymore. She’s not the same person who put them up anymore.

There’s a sharp intake on the other end of the line.

She waits to see if he'll say anything- beg her, say he’ll come back to Leaventown, try and convince her- but there’s only shocked silence. 

"That's what I thought." She says, tears involuntarily pricking at her eyes.

"Timara-" He starts, a pleading note to his voice.

"It's Tim now," she states firmly, slamming down the phone.

And that's the last conversation she has with her father for ten years.

*

She can’t seem to feel anything on the train heading to Ryme City except the same numb shock that had hit her on the phone. 

It’s like some sick mocking twist of fate, that she’s now making the same journey that she was supposed to do when she was twelve. 

_This is your fault_, the grinding of the carriage wheels against the track seem to whisper to her, _This might not have happened if you had gotten on that train._

She exasperatedly picks up the newspaper, forcefully flapping it open, hoping it will quiet her intrusive thoughts. However the front cover features a sensational story and glaring headline about Harry’s car crash. Brilliant. She never could fully get away from him.

She can’t figure out what she’s feeling really, and she doesn’t want to ruminate on it. Everything is a mess. She’s still furious and bitter about him abandoning her- and then he really had to go and get himself killed on top of everything. It’s infuriating. Just more trauma for her to deal with. 

Yet she can also tell that once she’s processed the initial shock, that there’s a rising sadness within her that’s only going to grow. She’s truly an orphan now. It’s different from being estranged- more final and lonesome. It leaves open no possibility at all of reconciliation… not that she was interested in that. But still. It’s definitive and decided, no longer something in her control. 

It’s easier to feel angry than focus on that. 

*

It's not that she doesn't think about calling him at any point. 

In fact, she considers it a few times. 

It's just, she's always so fucking angry at him. Every time she debates it, her anger wins out.

She decides she doesn't need him. Even when her anger at him is less intense, mellowed out by the years that past, she strives to prove her independence. She’s Tim Goodman, and she certainly doesn’t need anyone- never mind her father- to rely on. 

She doesn’t call him when she gets into her first fistfight at school. It’s not long after the phone call, not long after her mum has passed, that she realises that physically doing something offers a relief that talking or thinking doesn’t. A boy says something mockingly about her hair- the natural hair that her mother gave her, the hair that she loves and wears with pride- and before she can even think about it she’s on top of him, yelling and throwing uncontrolled punches. She doesn’t owe anyone to look a certain way, and certainly not some greasy little shithead who can’t even concentrate enough in class to understand the basics. She gets suspended for a week, and her grandma gives her such a look of disappointment when she picks her up from the principal’s office that she almost regrets it. It’s not her last fight though.

She doesn’t call him when she’s crying in her bedroom in the dark after going to a house party at sixteen. It was someone’s birthday and they had managed to get hold of her parent’s alcohol, as they often did at that age. They’re young and discovering the adult world for the first time and it feels like they’ve got the whole world at their fingertips, their whole future ahead of them. At some point, a boy in her year who’s been staring at her in class for weeks had started talking to her, in the corner of the room. She’s drunk and happy and she takes the conversation at face value, letting him joke with her and make her laugh. She doesn’t question it when he leads her to one of the bedrooms, stupidly thinking it was just to get away from the noise. He kisses her and she tries to push him away, but instead of pulling back he shoves his hand down her pants, fingers reaching inside her. She punches him in the face and feels sick satisfaction at the loud _crunch_, blood spilling over his face. She runs all the way out of the house, all the way back to her home. She spends the rest of the night curled up in bed, tears falling as she wondered why men keep thinking they have the right to keep taking things from her. 

She doesn’t call him after her first time with a girl, after something that had felt mismatched in her head her whole life finally clicked into place. It was like a whole other world suddenly opened up to her, and things after the longest time were actually making sense. With every kiss, every touch, she felt liberated, her own power rising under her skin. She doesn’t need to rely on any man, not her father, not a boyfriend, not a husband. It’s one of the most intense things she’s ever felt, and it changes her life. The following months see her coming out to all the important people in her life. Jack accepts it without even blinking, and anyone who doesn’t she decides she doesn’t care about. Her grandma doesn’t even question it when she mentions that she’s bringing home her girlfriend for the first time. It’s somehow completely life-changing, and yet nothing changes at all. She’s been like this her whole life, it’s just now that she’s finally realised. And yet, it never even crossed her mind to tell her father. She doesn’t owe him this detail about her life- he doesn’t deserve it. 

All of these experiences that make up who she is, he'll never get to know.

*

“If you’re anything like your dad-” Lieutenant Yoshida tells her at the police station, and she has to scoff.

“I’m not my dad.” She intercepts, shooting down his attempts at conversation or comfort. “I was raised by my grandma mostly, and I’ve been told I take after my mother to be honest.”

She’s nothing like her dad. She barely even knows him at this point. Her mum deserves the credit for raising her when she was still alive, and her grandma for after. She’s not interested in hearing about Harry.

She just wants to process his death and move on. 

Hide seems disappointed, but she doesn’t really care. He probably knew her dad better than she ever did to be honest. She didn’t even know that he had a pokémon partner now. She was easy to replace then, that voice whispers at the back of her brain. 

The Snubbull growls at her, and she resists the probably immature urge to growl back. 

She’s just not in the mood today. 

*

Even when she’s graduated from the local university, after getting in early and studying her ass off in financial mathematics for three intense years, she doesn’t call Harry. She’s allowed to bring two people to the ceremony, so she gives one ticket to her grandma and tears the other in half, putting the pieces in the bin without a second glance or thought. She only wishes that her mum could’ve seen her, but she guesses that she’s looking down at her, or whatever it is that people say to make you feel better. 

It’s at the point where she can barely remember what his voice even sounded like, or what his face specifically looked like to be honest. She tells herself that this is just space available in her memory for more useful information. 

So when she gets her job at the local insurance company, and is earning enough to start renting her own apartment, she finally feels the independence she’s craved for most of her life. She doesn’t need to lean on anyone but herself. 

It’s perfect.

It’s also absolutely, and entirely empty.

*

Yoshida offers to bring her to Harry's apartment, but she politely refuses. Tim can't imagine anything worse than having him hover over her, hoping to offer come comfort during this stressful time or whatever.

He argues that she shouldn’t be dealing with this alone, but she’s been managing with most problems alone nearly her whole life. It’s nothing new for her.

What she is not expecting as such, is to be interrogated by some random journalism intern outside Harry’s flat. 

The whole interaction is just… weird. Lucy Stevens clearly has no idea who Tim is, and yet seems to know an awful lot about Harry. She also makes the incorrect assumption that Tim knows, or gives a shit, about whatever Harry was working on before he died. That in itself pisses her off, perhaps more so than Lucy’s Psyduck partner who won’t stop staring at her, and making confused noises. 

But there’s something about Lucy Stevens. She’s clearly smart, and confident, and has been the only person in Ryme City so far to address Tim as anything other than a grief-stricken daughter who needs looking after. 

She actually reminds her of Jack a little bit. At least, in terms of that taking-no-shit, drive to succeed, that’s radiating off Lucy. If it was a different situation she’d probably be intrigued.

*

She meets Jack the year after her mum dies and her dad leaves, when the anger and bitterness running through her veins is still thick and at its most intense. 

Everything about him says that they shouldn’t get along. He’s wearing a pokémon league badge, with a big open smile on his face, and always seems to be preoccupied with his pokémon cards.

Nevertheless, when she gets assigned to sit beside him in science class, she can’t bring herself to snap at him like she usually would. There’s something almost endearing about him.

He’s doodling little Charizards in the margins of his chemistry notebook instead of paying attention. They’re not even that bad. Instead of scoffing at the drawings like she normally would, she purses her lips tightly and lets him be.

It takes about a month before she actually starts talking to him. 

She hadn’t even intended to ever start talking to him if she’s being honest. She’s heading to the library to return some books she’d borrowed, when she sees a gang of some of the older schoolboys in the corridor ahead of her. 

She makes to turn around and head a different way to the library. It’s not that she’s afraid of this group of boys- although Tim does recognise them as being part of the school bullies- it’s just that she’s really not in the mood today. They always make sure to leer at her, and throw some taunts her way. Their personal favourites seem to focus on her hair/her lack of friends/or sometimes if they’re feeling really cruel, her lack of parents.

She’s almost turned around when she hears a kid yelling in surprise, and then the other boys laughing mockingly. Looking over, she can just make out Jack, surrounded by the group. He was clearly walking past them when they decided to make him their next target. His head is bare, his pokémon hat lying on the floor beside him.

She narrows her eyes, watching the scene with distaste.

Jack is yelling at the older boys. “Give them back!” 

The boys all laugh, and one of them throws something to another of them. 

“Give what back?” The one wearing glasses asks, putting on a mocking high-pitched voice.

Jack pushes forward, shoving the taller boy with his hand, despite being what seems like half his size. She’s a little impressed.

“You know what!” He hollers, face flushed and eyes wide, “My pokémon cards!”

The atmosphere changes suddenly. The bullies are no longer laughing. The biggest of the group steps forward, chest out, expression hardened.

“What’re you gonna do if we don’t?” He asks, leering, stepping closer into Jack’s personal space. He lifts his arm threateningly, grabbing Jack by the shoulder of his jumper. 

She’s seen enough.

She stomps towards them, placing herself directly beside Jack and other boy, right in the middle of the group. 

Tim pulls Jack back, stepping into the space he was previously occupying, scowling.

“Fuck off and leave him alone, Steven,” She tells the biggest boy, folding her arms over her chest, and glaring up at him. She’s had encounters with him before, none of them pleasant.

He quirks his eyebrows in surprise, grinning mockingly.

“Why should I, Goodman?”

She grits her teeth at the use of her surname.

“Maybe because you know I can beat your ass to the ground- I’ve done it before,” She adds that last bit, seeing his mouth open to retort. “Or maybe because I heard Mrs Michael giving you a detention for being late this morning, and if you get in any more trouble this month, it’s suspension, isn’t it? I don’t think Mummy and Daddy would be too impressed with that- haven’t they been up to see the principal twice already this year?”

He gives her the dirtiest look at that, but he knows she’s right. After a moment of tense silence, he reluctantly nods at his friends, indicating that it’s time to move on and find another victim. 

She glares at him as they leave. He gives her the finger before walking away, throwing the pokémon cards on the hallway floor, silently promising her that next time she won’t be so lucky. She’s hugely unimpressed, and makes sure he can see that in her expression.

She feels Jack beside her relax, his whole body untensing. 

“Thank you… so much,” He says to her slowly, blinking a little owlishly before looking up at her with admiration in his eyes, “I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next.” He sheepishly gives a nervous laugh, rubbing both his hands together nervously.

Tim gives him a once-over, scrutinising him. After a moment she uncrosses her arms and pats him on the shoulder, her face still guarded, but comforting. 

“It’s fine- they’re dicks.” She hands him his cards and hat from the floor. “You better walk with me to the library, just in case they’re hanging around and decide to have another crack at you.”

They spend the whole lunch break together, and after that it seems to just make sense for them to stick together. Y’know, just in case those boys are still waiting. 

It’s definitely one of her better life decisions.

That day is not the first time that Jack’s told Tim he’s worried about her.

As they get older, she may develop some… unhealthy coping mechanisms. At least, that's what he calls them. She just calls it having fun.

He even joins in some of them. They spend quite a lot of time behind the school bike shed, sharing a blunt when they really should be in class. It’s pretty normal for teenagers their age, and most of the stuff being taught in lessons at this point they’re both smart enough to catch up on themselves. 

Admittedly however, she does maybe take it too far the summer of her seventeenth birthday.

She might have been dating the wrong kind of girl, and spending too much time partying, and maybe trying just one too many drugs. 

It’s an intense couple of months. She thinks she probably spends more time drunk than she does asleep. Her grandma is an amazing stand-in parent, but she has her own life and is often busy working or doing her own thing. Hence, Tim is essentially left to her own devices, giving her the freedom to do whatever she pleases. 

She’s not really sure what pushes her over the edge that year- maybe it’s the birthday card she receives from her dad when school finishes up for break. It’s the first that he’s attempted to send in four years. She thinks her grandma might’ve told him what she did to the last one (it involved fire), consequently stopping him from trying again too soon. She throws this one into the town river, watching as the ink blurs, before the whole thing sinks slowly into the dark, imperceptible depths, home to only the Magikarps and Mudkips. 

It could also be the fact that a lot of her schoolmates have decided to take up pokémon training that summer, since technically they don’t have to stay in school anymore. It’s surprising to her just how many people are interested in that career path, but then again, why go to university when you can spend all day with cute, friendly creatures? Not her own words, but the response of a girl in her class when she’d asked about it, one who’d just caught herself a Buneary (which in itself might tell you everything you need to know about her). Jack is still intending to become a trainer too- he just wants to finish school and get his grades in case that doesn’t work out. That’s definitely the smarter option if you ask her. It’s all a bit of a stark and unwelcome reminder of the path she’d nearly taken before her life kind of fell apart. It’s nice, therefore, when she meets her newest girlfriend, someone who seems equally as uninterested in pokémon as her, but unfortunately as uninterested in studying/work as Tim is interested. Still, it takes her mind off the ruminating and reflecting over past decisions and hurt. 

Either way, after a month and a half of some very enjoyable high / drunk / whatever-they’re-doing-that-night sex, and some not so enjoyable come downs, Jack pulls her aside for an intervention of sorts.

“I’m worried about you,” He tells her over their lunch meet-up, as she picks at her eggs disinterestedly, nursing today’s hangover. “As cliché as that sounds.”

She quirks an eyebrow at him, amused.

“What’s there to be worried about?” She asks, sipping on her black coffee.

He frowns at her, unimpressed with her nonchalance. “I think you know what, Tim.”

“Enlighten me.”

Jack rolls his eyes at her, fond but exasperated. “You know what I’m talking about, come on.”

She smiles at him, a real smile, because he knows not to waste time patronising her with the specifics. He knows her better than anyone. 

He also knows, however, that the best way to get her to listen is to cut straight to the point, harsh or not.

“You’re better than this- and you’re better than _her,_” He tells her, matter-of-factly, voice betraying his dislike of her girlfriend when he says ‘her’. 

She frowns uncomfortably. She’s pretty sure she’s not technically better than anyone.

“Your mum probably wouldn’t like seeing you wasting your life away,” He tries again, going in for the kill. 

She glares at him for that, but he’s the only one who can say things like that to her and get away with it.

“Well, she’s dead isn’t she- she can’t really see anything that’s going on anymore.” Tim shrugs at him, spearing the tomato on her plate rather forcefully.

He presses his lips together, conceding to her point.

He tries something else; “Your grandmother would probably tell your dad what’s going on if she thinks it gets bad enough.”

He’s got her attention now. He knows that she’d absolutely loathe it if Harry ended up getting involved in her life. 

That, more than anything, shows her how worried he actually is. 

“Touché,” she concedes to him, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms measurably. “What are you suggesting I change then?”

“Well firstly,” he starts, wrinkling up his noise in displeasure, “Maybe consider dumping the girl who is currently too busy to apply for any jobs because and I quote, ‘she is figuring herself out,’ yet only seems to actually be figuring out how to get the cheapest drinks every night.”

She snorts at that, and he seems pleased to see her genuinely smiling.

Of course, it’s not as simple as that- she does dump said girl, but it still takes a little more badgering from Jack before she stops the excessive partying and considers actually thinking about her own future after school finishes. 

Ultimately however, she decides to pull herself together because she’s actually made the point to herself that she was looking for. She can do what she wants, whether that be spending her nights off her face, or her days studying maths. There’s no one to tell her what to do, and she doesn’t actually need to choose a specific path because it’s expected of her. So fuck pokémon training- she’s going to go and find her own direction. 

*

So yeah, she flirts with Lucy not only because the other girl is pretty (which she is- Tim’s always had a thing for blondes), but also because she recognises in her a kind of dissatisfaction with what life has given her. She sees reflected in her a drive for something more, and a recognition too of how trivial life can be. 

Also, of course, just because she can.

*

It’s not that she doesn’t like insurance. Actually, Tim enjoys it a lot. She loves working with numbers, and the sense of control it gives her when she can confidently present her reports knowing that they’re good. She’s better at insurance work than she ever was at pokémon training. She’s promoted quickly through the ranks, a valuable asset to the company.

But there’s also a part of her that feels so numb all the time. She wanted to travel through all the different regions at one point, battling at all the gyms. That seems like such a distant dream at this point, far away from the monotonous reality she’s living. 

All of her school friends are beginning to move away. Jack is right when he tells her that she’s one of the only ones still left in their small town. Even Jack is preparing to leave, having stuck to his passion and signed up for the pokémon league. 

She can’t bring herself to consider leaving. Tim tells herself it’s because she wants to stay for her grandmother, but if she’s being real, that woman is more capable than anyone at looking after herself. She doesn’t really need Tim here. 

The truth is that leaving means finally actually saying goodbye to her childhood. It might’ve basically ended when she was eleven, but she’s been able to hold onto it by staying in the same place. She doesn’t want to leave and actually admit to herself that it’s irreplaceably over. 

Furthermore, if she leaves Leaventown now, and goes anywhere else, it’s a clear decision on her part to move somewhere other than Ryme City. She would be hesitant to describe herself as a coward, but she’s not quite sure that she’s ready for that. Staying in Leaventown has always left the option open. It’s a decisive fuck you to Harry, but also not so brutal as to imply that she’d rather be _anywhere_ else than where he is. If she’s being fully honest with herself, she’s still not one hundred percent sure if she would or wouldn’t. 

So she stays. 

*

Wandering around her dead father’s apartment, the one that he’s lived in all this time, is frankly, a strange experience. 

She has tried hard to avoid thinking about him, but when she dwelled on his life in Ryme City, she imagined that he’d have maybe a fancy apartment, fit for a world class detective, without any trace of her remaining.

The reality is more real. What she sees of Harry from the apartment is a normal, perhaps slightly broken, man. 

The old detective movies still playing on the television- the same ones they used to watch together in the evenings (or at least, he used to make her watch with him).

A childhood bedroom never used, but still kept the exact same for the last decade (like he never lost hope that she’d come round eventually).

Photo frames around the whole apartment, showing pictures of her and her mother. Reminders of the perfect life that he once had (and misses apparently).

When she finds the birthday card for her twenty third birthday- not for another couple months, and yet it’s already written and ready to send- her chest feels a little heavy. She can’t help but wearisomely run a hand through her hair, gripping the paper tightly with the other, studying it.

‘I can do better if you give me a chance. I’ve always got a place for you to stay,’ is scrawled in his untidy handwriting. It’s a similar message to the other cards he’s attempted to send her, but this is the first time she’s seen the actual beginnings of proof behind the message. 

The ticket inside is the first time he’s done that too. Maybe he thought that she’d be more receptive this year. 

She suddenly is finding it difficult to swallow.

The regret from before is back, more intense and pointed. She drops the card back on the table and turns to look around the rest of the apartment.

It’s too late to dwell on that now anyway.

.  
.  
.

Or at least, she thinks it is until she discovers a talking Pikachu rummaging about the apartment too.

*

Somehow Detective Pikachu ends up convincing her that her father isn’t dead. 

From there, it leads into one insane escapade into finding out where Harry’s gone, tracking down the R chemical, thinking Harry’s dead again, then finding out he really isn’t, hunting down Mewtwo with Lucy, stopping Roger Clifford, and then actually fighting the real perpetrator, who turns out to be the one and only Howard Clifford.

It’s all a little bit too much for Tim. The crying incident outside the police station was possibly not her finest moment. Seeing her father basically die in front of her though was a little traumatic, no matter what Yoshida thought he was doing. She’d gotten her emotions under control though, and decided to fix things to the best of her ability by helping the small and annoying, but strangely familiar and comforting Pikachu. 

Now, she’s standing by the ruined parade, and the most powerful pokémon in the world is telling her that her father is actually the very same tiny and irritating Pikachu that she had embraced as her partner. 

It’s all a bit fucked up.

The next thing she knows, Harry is lying on the ground in front of her, blearily looking up at Tim as if he’s found religion, drinking in the sight of her as if he’s never seen her before. Pikachu is making normal pokémon noises instead of talking, pawing at Harry’s side gently in concern. 

She doesn’t think it can be held against her that the first thing she does is break down into tears again, Harry shakily gripping her wrists from the ground and asking her repeatedly if she’s okay. 

The answer is of course _no_, but she can’t say that because physically she’s fine and she needs to pull herself together, and she’s not the one who just got turned back into a human. So she gets a grip, wipes her eyes, pulls her dad up from the tarmac, and pretends it never happened. 

Once she asserts that Harry’s fine, and seems to know what’s going on (thank god, she doesn’t know how she’d explain the current situation if he didn’t remember), she sets about trying to help reassert some sort of order. It’s not easy- Mewtwo is gone, Lucy has had to run off to get ready for her interview, but after about half an hour of panic and confusion, things seemed to be returning to some semblance of noramily. Tim tries to explain to Lt. Yoshida what’s been going on, in a garbled manner, words falling out her mouth faster than her brain can even process. It’s to his credit that he doesn’t question it, taking it all in his stride. He seems massively relieved to see an exhausted, but healthy and alive Harry, whose arm is draped over her shoulders. Yoshida shakes his head and says something fondly about ‘idiot detectives’ and ‘only him’, but she decides not to read into that too much at the moment. 

So now, she’s heading back to Harry’s apartment, half dragging her father, who’s still looking at her like she holds all of life’s answers, Pikachu holding onto her other side. He might ask her how she is, but to be honest, she’s not one hundred percent sure. Her mind has too many things to process, and she can’t focus on conversation with him right now. What is there to say anyway that can convey what’s been running through her head the last week- or even the last ten years?

*

She stares down at Harry’s now sleeping form on the sofa, and rubs a hand over her face. 

It’s all… too much. Just hours ago she’d been hanging from a window, thinking that a Pikachu who was her pokémon partner had come back to help her with trying to stop the apparently evil mayor of a city (that she’d only arrived in last week, and only because she’d been told that her dad was dead).

And now? Well, she doesn’t really know where she stands. Her dad isn’t dead. That’s a plus. But he’s also practically a stranger to her. One of only two friends she thought she’d made in this place is now snoring beside said stranger, having been revealed to be an utterly normal Pikachu. She can’t seem to connect the pokémon she’d been with all week to the man now unconscious on the coach.

She can’t stay here. Her thoughts are too chaotic. Being here, in this apartment, it just makes everything more intense. She can’t deal with her dead dad who isn’t actually dead, but is still possibly dead to her (as he’s been for the last ten years).

Instead, she finds herself in the bitter cold of the night, wandering around in the quiet city, illuminated by the numerous neon signs and lights. 

Eventually she’s standing at the door of the apartment that she’s been vaguely heading towards the whole time, based purely off of her own memory and the address whispered into her ear earlier that day after saving the city. 

She waits after knocking, until the door is pulled open and she finds herself staring into the expectant and welcoming face of Lucy Stevens.

Apparently she wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep.

She ends up being enthusiastically waved inside, and handed a glass of wine almost immediately. They wind up sitting on the floor of the tiny living room, both grappling with the weight of today. 

Their conversation begins with Lucy's interview and develops into focusing on the parade. The terror Lucy felt when she was melded with Psyduck, the relief and yet total helpless Tim felt when her dad was given back to her.

At some point she finds herself reaching for Lucy, grasping for something real, something to prove that they both survived today. Lucy is reaching back, seeming to understand the emotions running through her head. The wine has added a warm haze to everything, and she closes her eyes as her hands run through the other girl’s hair, mouths interlocking. 

It ends in the bedroom with her hands between Lucy’s thighs, eyes closed as she takes in the heat and feeling of another person’s living, breathing body against hers. Pleasuring someone is always grounding, even more so when she’s the one gripping Lucy’s hair from above, with her thighs wrapped around the other girl's head. She’s wholly present, not trapped in the inescapable thoughts that have been running through her mind since the parade finished, and Lucy's skin is soft, so soothing, and _nice_.

Hours later, as the beginnings of dawn starts trickling through the blinds to shine down on them in the bed, Lucy gently strokes the outline of her body, eventually reaching Tim’s fingertips. She lets her fingers rest there, keeping the physical connection.

“What will you do now?” She asks, looking at Tim. Her eyes are warm and open.

Tim sighs, sitting up on the pillow in consternation.

“I… honestly don’t know?” She replies, eyebrows drawing together in thought, “I guess I’m going to end up back home, back in insurance work.” She laughs a little emptily at that. Returning to normality after everything that’s happened seems kind of illogical, but she’s not sure what else to do.

“You could always stay in Ryme,” Lucy suggests.

Tim looks surprised, eyes widening.

“It’s just, earlier, when you described your life in Leaventown,” Lucy continues, frowning as she thinks of the right words, “You didn’t seem that happy.” 

Tim thinks on this, biting her bottom lip in contemplation. “I guess I wasn’t really. But- it’s always been easier just to stay there. Y’know, instead of coming here and dealing with-” She waves her hand about instead of trying to find the words to describe the mess that is her personal life.

Lucy seems to know what she means, if the amused smirk she makes in response indicates anything.

She does consider Tim for a moment however, eyes incredibly perceptive and smart, “You don’t have to spend your whole life running from things though. I’m sure your dad would be happy for you to stay with him. I would be happy for you to stay too.” 

It’s touching, and she’s grateful for Lucy’s support. She isn’t quite sure how to reply to this however, so she just draws in Lucy for another kiss 

She slips out while Lucy sleeps, looking peaceful and undisturbed. She writes out a note as she shrugs on her jeans and jacket, letting the other girl know that she’s gone back to her dad’s apartment, and signing her phone number with an ‘x’.

She walks back through the city, watching as the sun comes up and the early morning activity begins. It’s different from Leaventown, where life never seems to begin until nine am. Here, nothing ever seems to stop. Night or day, there’s always something going on. Everything is different- it even smells different. She can see why her dad likes it so much here. 

Tim slowly makes her way up the apartment stairs, stopping outside the flat’s door hesitatingly. Her dad’s home; the place where this whole thing had started. To think a week ago she never would’ve imagined that she’d be here, and now she’s got a key. It makes her chest feel heavy and tight if she lets herself think about it for too long, so she pushes upon the door and heads inside.

She’s not expecting Harry to be awake- it’s probably about seven and he seemed deep asleep when she left- but he’s there sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee, eyes bleary. His head shoots up as she comes in, and he smiles genuinely and warmly at her. She can’t help but notice that he looks relieved to see her back, as if he expected her to leave in the night.

To be fair, she half expected that she'd end up running away too.

She lifts a hand in greeting, unsure what else to do. She’s suddenly very aware of how she’s still wearing the same clothes and makeup as yesterday, her unkempt hair betraying exactly what she’s been doing. He’s a detective, he can definitely put two and two together. She’s never had to deal with the judgement of a parent in this way.

He's staring at her assessingly, but there's an amused glint in his eyes.

“So girls, huh?” He asks, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. He must remember a significant amount of being Pikachu if he can figure out that she was with Lucy all night. She doesn’t know how she feels about that. She said things to Pikachu that she hasn’t even admitted to Jack or anyone else.

She shrugs, not wanting to make it seem like a big deal. She’s not really feeling like having a big coming out moment right now. She did all that already. It’s old news.

“I thought Gran might've told you,” she answers, fiddling with the zip of her coat uncomfortably.

His eyes widen, surprised at that. 

“Kid, Grams is crazy protective of you. She always insisted that she wouldn’t tell me anything personal unless it came from you first.” He leans back in his chair, reflecting. “She only ever really told me your general situation- that you were doing okay and stuff like when you graduated or started your job or something.”

Tim nods, musing over this. It’s nice to know that her grandma always supported her, whether or not she specifically agreed with what Tim was doing. She misses her suddenly- her logical approach to life and unfiltered advice. She needs to let her know that she’s finally spoken to her dad. She’ll do that tomorrow. Maybe see if Gran can meet her at the train station or something soon. Speaking of, she needs to buy a ticket home.

"Guess that means I don't have to give you the sex talk,' Harry jokes, trying to lighten the atmosphere, and perhaps connect with her through humour.

She could run with it but it sparks a flash of annoyance in her. 

"Well, you're a bit late for that," she points out, tone matter of fact. She probably should've let it slide. They’ve only just been properly reunited. But, ten years is a long time. She doesn’t really appreciate the quip, no matter how harmless it was meant to be.

He's silent again, looking down awkwardly at his coffee cup, but she can see the flash of hurt in his eyes.

Mentally she’s sighing. This was much easier when her dad was a talking pokémon wearing a stupid hat, which says a lot to be honest about their whole relationship. There’s just too much history weighing down on her at the moment and she can’t ignore it. 

She stands awkwardly for a minute before saying, "I'm going to take a shower...uh d'you mind if I sleep in the…" she gestures towards her replicated childhood bedroom, not wanting to call it a guest bedroom because that obviously isn't what it was intended for. 

He looked up at her at her, resignedly bemused.

"That's your bedroom, Tammy," He shakes his head in disbelief at her question, "You can use it for whatever or however long you need- or want." 

(Wow, has it been a long time since she heard that name. She decides not to comment on it, however. At least he’s not calling her Timara).

She doesn't know how to reply to that either (a recurring theme apparently), so she just nods her thanks and disappears to get showered and get some sleep if she can. It’s been a long day (and night, but she doesn’t regret that).

It’s probably best if she leaves for Leaventown sooner rather than later though. Now that she’s found her dad and solved the mystery she has no real reason to be here.

She reckons he’ll be relieved once she’s gone anyway. It’s awkward and uncomfortable for both of them, and he’s probably got things to be getting on with. 

Try as hard as she can however, she can’t sleep. It’s too disconcerting being in her childhood bedroom. The last time her room looked like this was definitely before Harry left.

She finds herself pacing the living room instead. He isn’t there anymore- instead he’s left a note saying he needed to sort out some stuff at work. It makes sense- she supposes that the whole parade incident would create total havoc at the station. Maybe not as much havoc as their best detective returning from the dead however. She’s relieved she doesn’t have to explain to him why she can’t get comfortable in ‘her’ room. 

Eventually however she must pass out on the sofa, because when she next wakes, the sun is sitting lower. The light sky has lost its brightness, bright blue having softened to a mellower orange. She can barely make this out through the blinds that someone has pulled shut, keeping the room as dark as possible so as not to wake her.

She shifts in the sofa, rolling over to face away from the window, and notices that a soft blanket has been thrown over her. It’s soft and comforting. There’s a solid weight by her side, and when she looks down Tim sees Pikachu is curled up alongside her too, breathing softly, deep asleep.

She lets herself drift back into sleep, thinking that she’ll thank Harry for that next time she wakes up.

*

The next evening her dad cooks for them. It’s a sort of farewell dinner since this morning Tim had booked her train ticket back to her hometown. It’s for tomorrow afternoon. Harry had insisted on paying for it, saying that it’s technically his fault that she ended up here, which had led to a moment of awkward silence between them where they both wondered if she would’ve ever come here otherwise.

She doesn’t actually remember him being able to cook, but apparently living by yourself for years means you develop new skills.

Pikachu is sitting on a chair beside the table with them, tucking into his own plate of pokémon food. She has to admit, even though she’s still a bit wary around him, he’s absolutely adorable. Every so often he’ll make little _pika_ noises, and Harry will respond by giving him a little pat on the head, or letting him try what he’s cooking. 

He’s made some sort of pasta dish for them. As he serves it up she notices that it has tuna in it.

She purses her lips inwards, feeling bad.

“I...ah, I’m actually a vegetarian now.” She admits to him, wringing her hands together anxiously under the table together.

He freezes, blinking at her, face falling for a second.

“Oh shit- sorry, not even fish then?” At her nod, he starts looking round the kitchen a little frantically, “I probably have something else you can have, hang on kid, I’ll just go have a look in the fridge-”

She interrupts him, “No, it’s fine! Don’t worry about it, look- I should’ve probably said something earlier, I just didn’t think… I can pick out the fish, seriously, it’s fine.”

He nods at her awkwardly, and smiles a little forcefully. She inwardly grimaces- he’s trying hard, but it’s still so glaringly obvious that neither of them know much about the other.

As they eat, Tim scraping out bits of fish as she goes, Harry tries to find out about as much of her life as he can.

“So you work in insurance?” He asks her.

She nods, focusing on her plate, “Yeah- it’s, well, I’m an analyst which means I look at different policies and basically the risks involved with them- I mean it’s a bit more complicated than that but y’know,” She shrugs at him with a half-smile on her face, “It’s not detective work. You’d probably find it all a bit boring.”

“And you’re happy there?” 

She blinks at him, startled by the question.

“I mean… I like numbers.” She answers, avoiding his gaze.

He nods thoughtfully at this, but doesn’t ask about it anymore.

He continues trying to find out what he can, drawing out as much information from her as she’s willing to give. It’s nice having someone so interested, but she’s still can’t quite believe that she’s sitting here with Harry. She considers asking him something about his life here, but that might mean talking about how he ended up living in Ryme and… well, she’s not quite ready to deal with that yet.

At some point during the evening, when they’ve both finished their respective meals, he looks at her softly.

“You look so much like her, you know.” He tells her, looking pensive, and a little emotional.

She brushes her hair behind her ears self-consciously.

“That’s what Gran always says,” She blinks heavily, not expecting her eyes to get moist. 

“It’s a good thing,” He says, as he begins to lift up their dishes and glasses, “She was a beautiful woman, your mum. And an extremely loving, kind person.”

She watches as he cleans the dishes, back turned to her, humming out a familiar tune- probably something from an old detective series or something.

It makes her chest feel funny with some kind of gentle nostalgia. She hasn’t felt this way in years. It’s what she imagines homesickness might feel like, except instead of missing home, it’s happening before she’s even left the city. 

*

Tim let’s him pull her in for a goodbye hug outside the train station. It still feels weird. She hugs him back though. It wouldn’t feel right not to. Not after everything that’s happened this week. 

She knows he wants her to stay. Even Pikachu had spent the morning chirping mellowly at her as she threw together her belongings into her rucksack in preparation to leave. When she’d patted his head comfortingly he’d just turned his big sad eyes on her, trying to convey what Harry was unable to. Her dad had subtly resigned himself to his room for the morning, clearly distressed over her leaving again, but trying to pretend otherwise.

As she pulls back from the hug, she sees his face quickly even out, covering up the grief that had been there. 

As Tim walks towards the train back to her old life, she can’t help but glance back at Harry and Pikachu, both beside each other, looking at her as though their hopes and dreams are leaving with her. 

Biting her lip, she considers the ticket in her hand and the two worlds lying behind and in front of her.

She thinks about when her dad stuck in Pikachu’s tiny body had argued that second chances are a special thing.

She thinks about Lucy, soft under the morning light, telling her that she doesn’t have to spend her whole life running from things. 

She thinks about her mother, stroking her hair every morning, telling her that one day she’d be doing great things.

Spinning around to face the city and her father, she decides that maybe it’s time to start listening to everything everyone has been telling her.

*

It’s anticlimactic, but she spends the day after she decides to stay curled up in bed in her dark room, feeling like she's made the biggest mistake of her life, and wondering if the world is possibly going to end because of it.

She can hear her dad puttering about in the living space. Every so often when he passes her door, she can hear him momentarily pause. She can almost feel the concern through the sound of his footsteps. He's probably wondering if it's normal for everyone’s twenty two year old daughter to spend whole days locked in their bedrooms.

Based off of her own experiences she’d probably say that no, it's not normal. But she can’t help but get into this mindset after making impulsive decisions like this. It was the same when she accepted her place at the local university, or when she signed the contract on her apartment back in Leaventown. This is maybe even worse however, especially since this one is going to completely change her life. She wishes that she could take something, and just shut her brain up, but she’s trapped in her room, and there’s no way that she’s heading out and having Harry possibly asking her questions. 

Harry probably thinks that she’s regretting her impulsive decision to stay in Ryme City, and is currently planning moving back home again. To be fair, she can’t honestly say that she’s not. She had a reasonably good life in Leaventown- including a stable job that she was actually good at. In comparison she doesn’t know the first thing about detective work. It was only through chance and serendipitous encounters with Lucy and her dad as a Pikachu that she really managed to help stop Howard Clifford. Maybe she should take back her notice and beg for her insurance position back. 

As for her living with Harry- well, her dad and her have talked more in the last two days than they have for ten years, and even then it hasn’t been much more than semi-awkward conversations. They barely know anything about each other. He doesn’t even know how she drinks her coffee, never mind what it’s like to live with her. He hasn’t been there for any of her formative experiences, none of the lows. She’s still angry at him for it. 

And yet, it feels like she’s finally doing something right with her life, for the first time in forever. Harry might seem like a stranger, but there’s also something so painfully familiar in the way that he looks at her, in his tone of voice, or even the way that he walks. She came here thinking that her only parent left was dead, and it feels wrong to leave and let everything stay as it was.

And perhaps most importantly, she knows that her mum would approve of what they’re both trying to do.

And so the anxiety ping pong match in her head of what to do continues. The rest of the day passes in a slow trickle of her in bed, staring at the ceiling, and focusing on breathing. 

*

After she wakes up the next morning she opens the door to the kitchen like it never happened. 

Harry seems to go along with her facade pretty well. For a detective he’s surprisingly good at not asking questions. Or perhaps he just knows by now that they’ll do nothing except make her defensive and irritated. 

She’s still in her pyjamas, whereas he seems dressed and ready to go, but to be fair, he has a job, and she is still unemployed (it gives her anxiety just to think about it). Pikachu has his little hat on, ready for the day’s work. She gives him a little scratch on his head as she passes him, which results in a responding chitter. 

They don’t talk as he moves about the kitchen but when he starts brewing a pot of coffee, he asks if she’d like one too.

“Uh, yes please- black, one sugar,” she tells him. Well, at least now he’ll know how she likes her coffee. Small steps.

As he sits down he passes a mug to her. While she grabs it, she absent-mindedly thinks that living with him is probably going to give her a coffee addiction of some sort. Since he seems to need a cup about twelve times a day, and it’s one of the only ways so far they’ve been able to talk without it getting too uncomfortable. 

“Thanks,” she says to him, which he waves off.

Instead, he places a small folder on the table, and slides it across to her. On the front is written ‘RYME CITY DETECTIVE HANDBOOK.’

Her eyes widen when she reads it. Harry’s taking her comment about trying out detective work pretty seriously then.

“Okay kid so,” He starts, “I went to see Hide yesterday, and I’m pretty sure you’ve got a place at the Police Academy. There was an aptitude assessment to get in, but we’ve waived that for you- since you seem to have proved yourself pretty well in your investigations of the R substance.” He quirks a proud, reassuring smile at her.

It doesn’t really comfort Tim however, considering that she almost died about five times, and probably wouldn’t have solved it if she was by herself. She keeps that to herself though. She’ll let the guilt eat her up later in her own private time.

“Obviously it’s been a while for me but,” He tilts his head back, pushing his glasses up with his finger, “You’ll probably have to train for about a month or so before you can actually start working on cases. It’s mainly a mix of theory and practical application- y’know learning laws, official processes et cetera et cetera, all of that boring stuff.” 

She can’t help but smirk at his obvious disinterest in the official theoretical side of things. She probably won’t try to emulate that- that’s how you end up getting put into the body of your Pikachu for a week.

“You say you like numbers and details, so I reckon you’ll do well with that. There’s some hand to hand combat training too- you never know when you’ll need it- also some pokémon handling training. You come across all types in detective work, and you’ll probably end up working with a lot of different kinds too.”

Pikachu gives a pleased pika! at that, as if to confirm what Harry has just said. He smiles fondly at his partner in response.

That takes her aback for a moment. She never even thought about how much she’d have to work with pokémon as a detective. That’s… interesting. 

Harry must notice her eyes narrowing at that, because he goes on to add quickly, “Most people there will probably have partners, but it’s not a requirement. It’s just a bit unusual not too, especially in Ryme, but it’s fine kid, don’t worry about it.” 

The reassurance pricks her at her pride, so she rolls her shoulders back and cooly responds, “I’m not worried.”

Harry’s raises his eyebrows slightly at this, but decides not to say anything.

“Well, in that case kid,” He smiles widely, eyes crinkling behind the glasses frames, “You start tomorrow morning! Welcome to the Ryme City Police.” 

Okay, so they’re actually doing this. At least this means she has a job now.

*

It turns out that police training might be harder than she originally anticipated.

There’s what some would describe as ‘too much’ prep material. Harry did warn her about the reading, but he somehow didn’t quite manage to convey just how much there is. It’s a lot. She’s up most of the night, laptop in one hand, handbook in the other, pencil in her mouth, scrawling down whatever looks vaguely important. 

On her first day she barely manages to find her way to the academy (it’s a big city, it’s not her fault), meaning that she’s already half an hour late, and only has time to nod hello at her fellow trainees before having to roll up her sleeves and get stuck in. It’s a lot of introductions, being lectured at, and getting to grips with the rules. She finds herself feeling completely overwhelmed with new information. It’s a long day too. She gets home late that evening, and pretty much goes straight to her room and collapses on her bed, not even bothering to go to the kitchen. Harry doesn’t seem too surprised or offended though- she supposes he went through it all at one point.

The next couple days basically go the same way; wash, rinse, repeat. Waking up early, grabbing the cup of coffee he always leaves out for her, and running to the academy, before barely having time to greet anyone when training starts. She feels like she’s back at university, except this is probably even more intense, and actually will end up being important if she makes it to doing real police work. Which is in itself a bit daunting, but sure.

It’s difficult to adjust to, after feeling so secure in her old job. Everything here is new to her, and although she’s a quick learner, it’s frustrating to feel so out of her depth. She isn’t always the best at mixing with new people either, and so far she hasn’t managed to hold a conversation with anyone. It doesn’t help that ninety percent of the people here that she’s run into have been men. Tim kind of forgot that police work was a male-dominated field, and she can’t help but feel like they’re all judging her, waiting for her to mess up, or prove too weak to make it through. 

There are a lot of pokémon hanging around too, and she’s had to work on adjusting her comfort levels around them. Just because she’s cohabitating with a Pikachu, doesn’t mean that she’s automatically okay with all these other pokémon now. Normally she’d take a purposeful wide berth around anyone’s partner, but it’s clearly necessary for her to get used to working with them in this field. The last thing she needs is another reason for her colleagues to doubt her ability, so she grits her teeth and forces a smile at all the Squirtles, and Piplups and whatever else anyone has with them. 

On the last day of the first work week however, things go a bit differently. It’s time for their first introductory training session, and she’s actually a little excited for the first time in this whole experience. 

They’re all lined up along the wall of the academy gym, wearing trainee issued t-shirts and shorts. The trainees have been divided into sub-groups, and it doesn't escape her notice that she's the only woman in this particular room. She can see the other men, eyeing her up, probably presuming that she's going to be easy to take down.

Their supervising instructor doesn’t seem to bat an eye however. He stares at them all coolly, with the most intimidatingly neutral expression on his face. 

“Right then,” He starts, hands on hips, pacing in front of them as he seems to study each person, “You’re all here because you want to be detectives, correct?”

There’s a general murmur of agreement amongst their group, and he raises an eyebrow in response.

“Well, statistically about half of you won’t make it, so don’t expect the session to be this big when we get to the last week.” He continues without pause, as if he hasn’t just told them that fifty percent of them aren’t tough enough. Tim’s not so sure if she likes this guy. “Now, in these sessions, we’re going to go through basic hand-to-hand combat, just mostly the basics of how to defend yourself, and then in the later weeks we’ll probably incorporate working with your pokémon partners effectively in the field, and so on.”

Her brows knit together in annoyance. She does wish that people would stop going on about pokémon partners. 

The instructor taps his feet against the floor, gives them all another once over, before opening his mouth and snapping, “Goodman. Come forward to the mats.” 

She walks over, sighing internally. Tim can hear whisperings amongst the group in response to that, and bites her lip in frustration. So far, she’s avoided drawing attention to the relation between her and her infamous detective father. The last thing she wanted was for claims of nepotism to spread. Brilliant. 

“Evans, you come forward too.” He calls out, and a rather large, solid looking man steps out.

“Right, well, I need to get a general sense of what levels of experience we’re dealing with before I can teach you anything, so you two are my first example. The guinea pig pair if you like. When I say, I just want you to see who can get the other on the mat first.” He stares at them both intensely, making sure they understand what he’s saying, “Think you can handle that?”

They both nod. Evans is looking at her a little too hungrily, she thinks. He reminds her of the school bullies back home. Tim can tell that he thinks that she’s going to be a simple pushover, a way for him to establish his dominance early on- after all, of course he can defeat an inexperienced young girl. 

Well, she guesses she’s just going to have to prove him wrong, as well as everyone else in the audience who probably now presumes that the only reason she’s here is because of her father. She might not be an expert in any kind of martial arts, but she’s been in enough fist-fights to hold her own.

The instructor waves at them both, “Okay, go!”

The next thing she knows, Evans is coming at her, aiming for her waist, clearly expecting brute force to be effective. To be fair, he is probably more than twice her size, so she can’t begrudge him for that. Luckily for her, she’s quick and lithely, and just about manages to duck below his outstretched arms. 

There’s a few interested noises coming from the group at that.

She has him by surprise now, and she intends to use it. Before he can even process what’s going on, she’s grabbed him by the arm. They make eye contact for a split second and she sees his eyes widening in surprise. She grins smugly at him. Then she kicks out his ankle, and although it’s not polished at all, she turns herself away from him, through brute force and speed, flipping him over onto the mat. 

There’s a stunned silence for a moment, where all she can hear is her heavy breathing. A couple of other trainees whistle their approval. 

Tim hopes she’s made her point. She’s not to be underestimated. She turns to the instructor, looking him directly in the eye defiantly. 

“Not bad,” He comments, eyeing her approvingly. She beams, pleased. “A bit sloppy though. Try again but this time...” He launches into a long list of improvements that could be made.

She groans at the criticism. Her brief moment of satisfaction fades away far too quickly.

*

It's later that night, while she's sitting in the living room flicking through her training handbook, that she asks, "How many female detectives are there at the station?"

She’s been thinking about it since she half-limped home, muscles all seized up from a whole day of essentially being thrown into the floor. 

Harry looks up from the case notes that he's been pouring over at his desk. 

“Hmm?” He asks, clearly not having processed what Tim said. He has a tendency to get awfully wrapped up in whatever he’s looking in to.

“Female detectives,” she repeats, closing the book, “How many are there? I just haven’t seen many women down at the academy.”

He grimaces sheepishly, stretching and rubbing the back of his neck a little nervously, “Ah… I hadn’t really thought about it. Um, I think there’s definitely a few? Definitely at least three.”

She process that for a moment. Three really isn’t that many… but it’s still better than none. It’s not something she really considered when she floated the idea of detective work, but it’s been weighing down on her this whole week. It’s cumbersome having to prove herself when she’s already perceived as being handicapped due to her gender. It feels like a whole extra weight on top of her, something else to worry about. 

And that’s only part of doubts. She’s not even sure detective work is for her. The only part of this week that was a real success was the physical training- and even then she received criticism after criticism. She didn’t even like her old job _that_ much, but this is making her miss it. Maybe she was wrong to stay here. It seems like it was just presumptuous of her to assume that she could easily start a new career path, and life.

Harry tilts his head at her, perhaps sensing her internal uncertainty.

“How’s it been going, kid?” He asks.

She doesn’t really feel like getting into it all with him. He probably wouldn’t understand, and besides, he hasn’t actually had to help her with any kind of problem like this before. The last time she asked him for help was probably about needing someone to teach her to tie a shoelace. 

“Fine,” she responds succinctly, turning back to her notes.

She can feel his gaze resting on her still. She’s about to make some petulant comment about it when he completely changes the conversation.

“How would you feel about going furniture shopping this weekend?” He’s fidgeting a little as he asks, hands playing with the paper in front of him. “I figured maybe you wanted to change up your room a little bit. That bed frame isn’t really age appropriate, is it?” He huffs out a soft nervous laugh.

She’s surprised at his request. It’s a pretty nice idea but…

“Oh, well- maybe it’s fine for the moment? I can still use that bed, it’s okay. Besides,” She gives what she hopes is a convincing smile, “Apparently half of the detective trainees don’t make it anyway so let’s not get too ahead of ourselves.”

It’s probably a dick move on her part, but she’s not wrong- she could end up not completing the course. And if that happens, then it’s probably a massive sign that she shouldn’t stay in Ryme City. Buying new furniture is a little too permanent for her liking. She’s still not quite one hundred percent convinced she’s made the right decision. Not yet.

She decides to pretend she didn’t see his face fall at her response. He looks disappointed, disapproving and sad all at once. She’s annoyed at herself for the reflexive guilt it stirs in her.

*

It’s only on the weekend that she finally gets a chance to see Lucy. Although she let the other girl know that she was staying in the city, she’s barely had a chance to actually keep in contact with her, what with starting training and everything. It’s all been kind of overwhelming, and it’s not that she hadn’t been thinking of the other girl, but her mind has been in a bit of a mess.

Lucy is working today- her official job at CMN seems pretty intense. She’s got official deadlines and everything now, as well as a weekly spot on the tv news. Her lunch break is at one however, and Tim knows she gets an hour off. It seems like the perfect opportunity to meet up, go on a walk in the park or something, and maybe talk to someone about everything that’s been going on.

As she walks over to the big media tower where Lucy now has an office, she sends a text just to make sure that Lucy is still free.

**meet @ 1pm outside cmn building? could go to ryme central park x**

The reply comes quickly.

**okay.**

She frowns at her phone as she reads the message. It’s a little frosty. Lucy is normally more friendly than that on text, her bold personality coming through even when she’s not there in person. This doesn’t bode well.

When she finally makes it to CMN, Lucy is already standing outside, sunglasses on and arms folded. That is not a good sign either. Pysduck is sitting quietly in her rucksack, and stares silently at Tim as she walks up to them, eyes wide. She hesitatingly greets them, and gets back a curt ‘hi’. 

They make their way over to the public park in silence, Tim throwing concerned glances at Lucy every so often. It’s pretty clear to her that she’s angry about something- or at least, angry at Tim.

She lasts a solid two minutes, before she throws her hands in the air and asks a little impatiently, “Okay, what's wrong?”

They’ve come to a stop now, both turning to glare at the other. Lucy scowls at her, her ponytail shaking slightly as she tilts her head sarcastically at Tim.

“You really don’t know?” She asks, tone stony. 

Tim rubs her lips together nervously. “Look- I know I haven’t been in contact with you much, but I’ve been really busy, honestly. I’m sor-”

“What is this, Tim?” Lucy asks her, interrupting.

“What do you mean?”

Lucy sighs exasperatedly, “I mean, what are we doing together? Are we dating?”

Tim opens her mouth to answer and finds nothing coming out. “Uhh…”

“We save the city, all while getting along really well I think- then we sleep together, and it’s great and I think, oh okay so this was fun but she might be leaving. Don’t expect anything. But then! You text me saying that you’re staying, and you want to meet up again, so forgive me, but I think it was pretty reasonable for me to presume that this was going to be something.” She sighs again heavily, “It was pretty hurtful therefore, for you to basically ghost me the whole week. I get that you might be busy- but even a text would’ve been nice. _I’m_ busy but I still found time to message you.”

“Lucy- I’m sorry.” She says, tone gentle.

Lucy just shakes her head at her, unimpressed. “I like you a lot, Tim. But I’m not going to stick around if I’m going to just be like a pokémon toy or something to you.”

“You know I don’t think of you like that,” Tim insists, a slight pleading note in her voice, “I never have, never would.”

Lucy’s expression softens at that. 

“I know you don’t, not intentionally. But I’m not looking to waste my time being messed around, even if you don’t mean to. I’ve been there before, and I’m not looking to do it again.” She looks away, arms crossed over her chest. “Just think about what you want this to be, okay? You already know what I want. It’s up to you what happens next.”

Tim really should say something, but she feels like her brain has frozen. She doesn’t want Lucy to think that she doesn’t appreciate her, but she can’t bring herself to commit to something serious just yet. 

Lucy just stares at her for a moment, before her expression hardens and she shrugs in frustration. Turning her back away from Tim she walks away, Pysduck letting out a little nervous squeak as they both disappear from view.

Well, fuck.

*

“You know that you’re allowed to be happy?” Jack asks her over the phone that evening, as she’s explaining everything that has happened so far in the disaster that is unfortunately her life.

She almost chokes on the granola bar that she’s distractedly eating, as she’s browsing course notes on her laptop, and talking to Jack in the phone at the same time. 

"What?" She coughs out, startled by his interruption.

"You're allowed to let yourself be happy," he reiterates, going on to explain, “You’re doing that thing that you always do.”

“What thing?” She asks, confused. She can hear him sigh in frustration, and can imagine him pinching the bridge of his nose on the other end of the line.

“That stupid thing you do where you seem to actually believe you don’t deserve any of the good stuff going on in your life- y’know, the one where you end up self-sabotaging yourself because you genuinely seem to think that you deserve to be unhappy.” He pauses for a second, before continuing on with a note of suspicion in his voice, “I bet you’re even thinking that you could still leave Ryme City and go back home, aren’t you? Or at least looking for reasons not to stay?”

He takes her silence at this to be a confirmation.

“See!” He cries, “Listen- Tim- this thing with Lucy, and the reconnecting with your dad, and starting this new job- these are all good things. You deserve them. Maybe they’re scary but life’s scary, isn’t it? It means you have to take a leap of faith, but it’s going to be worth it. Just...let yourself be happy, please.”

She finds herself choked up at Jack’s words. His conviction that she’s allowed more in life has rendered her a little emotionally compromised.

“When did you get so wise?” She jokes wetly, in lieu of voicing anything too sentimental.

His loud laugh in response has her smiling.

*

It’s good advice. Unfortunately Tim’s never been great at taking advice. Gran always called it one of her biggest and most annoying flaws. She often finds people’s attempts at helping to be patronising, or unsolicited, preferring to make her own path through her problems.

So instead of coping with things maturely, she decides heading to the nearest bar, and trying to get blackout drunk as quickly as possible is the most sensible option. 

The Machop on the other side of the bar clearly doesn’t agree, if the looks he gives her are anything to go by. It’s human partner is also a little suspicious of her sitting by herself, but she doesn’t really care. The drinks are cheap, and the music loud enough to drown out her thoughts, so she’s good.

She’s not really sure how much time passes of just general self-pitying wallowing, but it must be a while because everything is sort of blurring into one. The next thing she knows however, someone is shaking her awake (she must’ve passed out at the bar, which is a little embarrassing, but also in her current state she finds it quite funny).

“Tim- Tim!”

She opens her eyes blearily, to suddenly be confronted with the fuzzy image of Harry standing in front of her, concern in his eyes, brow furrowed. Pikachu is on his shoulder, wearing an unimpressed expression, which makes her giggle.

“How...how did you get here?” She slurs at him, pushing her hair out of her face, frowning. She definitely hadn’t told Harry what she was doing or where she was going tonight. 

His eyes narrow at that, probably wondering exactly how much she’s had to drink, judging from the way his eyes are flitting between the glasses beside her on the bar, and her current limp, dishevelled form.

“You called me, remember?” He asks, hand on her shoulder, pulling the drink she was about to down out of her hand.

“No.” She shakes her head, certain that he’s wrong, reaching for the drink again. It’s probably a bit childish but she needs to correct him. “No.”

“Yes,” He argues back, pushing the glass further out of her reach.

“No.” She pushes her chair away from the bar, stumbling off it. Harry reaches to help her, but she bats him away, steadying herself as she stands up. “I mustn’t’ve. I don’t use that number- I, I don’t,” She frowns, “I don’t call your number. Never.”

He looks confused and hurt all at once, but there’s also a moment of comprehension. Tim never contacted him after he left. Any attempts at reaching out were on Harry’s part. She hasn’t even called or texted that number while she’s been in Ryme City. It’s something that’s been off-limits to her for years, a forbidden thing to do. She’s nearly deleted it off her phone multiple times, but for some reason has never been quite able to bring herself too. But she’s never actually used it.

Oh. It dawns on her that if she phoned Harry, even if she was blackout drunk, subconsciously that must mean something. Something has changed. She’s changed. 

Tim’s contemplating the significance of this right at the moment that she proceeds to throw up on his shoes.

“You know…” She begins as he’s helping to drag her up the stairs to the apartment they now share, “You know I’m trying? Right? I am trying.”

He looks at her clearly having no idea what she’s on about, face a little flushed from the effort of essentially dragging her across the city. 

“Trying what?” He asks.

She groans in frustration, and flails an arm out melodramatically to demonstrate her point. Pikachu makes an alarmed noise, ducking out of the way.

“Trying to be happy! Trying to let myself be happy!” She attempts to explain to him, the haze of alcohol making the words difficult to get out.

They’ve reached the apartment now, and he’s pushing open the door, pushing her into the room. She’s perfectly content to flop down on the floor, but his iron grip on her shoulder pushes her onto the sofa instead, which she sags into immediately.

As Harry fetches her a glass of water, he mutters to himself amusedly, “I suppose this is making up for all the teenage years I missed.” 

He comes back around to her side, holding out the glass of water and focusing on her with a patient expression. 

“Happiness is bullshit,” she grumbles sullenly to herself, ignoring him.

He’s frowning now.

“I don’t think that’s quite true, kid.” He replies, still attempting to get her to take the glass. “I was happy when you were born. I’m happy that you’re here now. That’s not bullshit.”

If she was sober she might’ve appreciated the sentiment more, but in her completely wasted state, she is left unimpressed. 

“I was so angry at you y’know,” she slurs out instead, pushing his arm away from her, “I still am! And yeah- I know I saved you, and we bonded, and everything seems fine now, but I’m still angry- everything that happened- it’s all still real! It still happened. It’s not… not-real, it doesn’t just go away.”

He’s staring at her, eyes wide and surprised, but also full of sympathy and regret.

“Tammy, I know- I’m so sorry.”

The apology takes her to the edge, but it’s the use of her old nickname that pushes her over.

“I can’t believe you just,” She pauses, breathing in to steady herself, but it doesn’t work and her voice is breaking instead, eyes filling with tears, “You just fucking left me.” 

She’s crying now, tears streaming down her face, sobs choking her. Harry’s eyes are even wider now, and he’s looking panic-stricken and worried, rubbing a hand on her back hesitantly, making alarmed shushing noises.

“I’m sorry for never getting on that train,” She cries, hands frantically trying to wipe away the tears that are still coming, “So stupid of me.”

“No, no, come on, Tammy,” And now he’s got both hands on her shoulders, holding up her head gently, as he looks directly into her gaze, “Tammy, listen to me.”

She stares back at him, bottom lip jutting out, stare unfocused but listening.

He continues, voice firm and authoritative, “You weren’t to blame for not coming to the city. I made a mistake, leaving you behind so soon after she died. It was wrong of me, and you were just a kid.”

She opens her mouth, to protest, argue that she knew what she was going, but he holds up a hand,

“I know I was acting out of grief, but I still messed up. And I’m going to regret that for the rest of my life.” He blinks heavily, but when he looks at her now his face is filled with fatherly love, “But, we got a second opportunity. I would go through the car crash, and being turned into a pokémon, all over again if it meant I got to see you again.”

He lets her break his gaze now, patting her on the knee instead,

“I know it’s taking a while to adjust, and it’s all complicated and it’s hard to let go of the past, and that’s completely fine. But I think you do deserve a happy ending eventually, right?”

She nods at him, thinking that maybe, just maybe, she might actually believe him.

Waking up the next morning is best described as a violent assault on her senses. Her head is pounding, and there’s a high chance she’s going to be sick if she moves. Turning her head carefully, she sees Pikachu curled up under her arm, and that someone has left water and a bottle of aspirin on her bedside table.

Thank god for Harry. She gingerly downs two of the pills, before letting herself flop back onto the pillow, closing her eyes and thinking back over last night.

It’s a bit blurry, but from what she can recall she’s pretty embarrassed. Getting blackout drunk and emotional is never a good look. It’s something she really should’ve grown out of, but clearly her dysfunctional coping mechanisms haven’t gone anywhere. She also thinks she might’ve thrown up on Harry, which is even worse. She winces, reminding herself that she now owes him a new pair of shoes.

On the other hand, despite the churning nausea in her stomach and ache in her legs, Tim feels almost lighter somehow. 

It might have something to do with what her dad told her- or what she told him. Which yes, she does remember, not that she’ll be mentioning it to him anytime soon. She regrets creating a scene, but it was comforting having him say all that to her. He and Jack together, seem convinced that staying here is the right thing, and she’s beginning to wonder if maybe they’re right.

She lets herself drift back into sleep, vaguely thinking that she needs to apologise to Lucy. Starting from there, she can maybe fix the mess that she’s made.

*

That week at the academy, she tries to actually get to know her colleagues. As it turns out, they’re not all dicks, and they’re not all men.

She probably would’ve figured that out sooner if she’d actually tried talking to people last week, but better late than never. She’s also cheered up a little from the news that Evans- the man she trained with on Friday- had suddenly decided that detective work wasn’t for him.

She meets a girl from Kanto, who’s paired with the most adorable Eevee, both having moved here to look for a new start. There’s a guy from Hoenn, who looks intimidating at first with his Infernape partner, but once they strike up a conversation she realises they both have an interest in the same kind of music. There are definitely still more men than women overall, but as it turns out, the precinct is part of an interregional women's detective network, where different city police branches meet up every month and talk about diversity initiatives. She makes a mental note to look into that more later. She learns this all from one of the senior female detectives- it’s one of the most refreshing conversations Tim has had all week.

Tim also finds out that she’s not even the only one struggling to adjust to the intense workload. The reading has been keeping most people up late, but apparently it’s meant to be challenging. She feels relief at that, reassurance in knowing that it’s not just her or that she’s not falling behind. The others reassure her that once they actually get familiar with the basic concepts and procedures being thrown at them, they’ll apparently be able to try and apply them in practical situations, and then they’ll really see their own progress. 

Even the instructors seem nicer this week. Their physical training coach actually smiles at her on Friday, recognising her from the week before. Apparently the first week is meant to be one of the hardest, with their teachers warming up as time goes on. She guesses it makes sense- they don’t want people to sign up without understanding what they’re getting in for. She thinks she knows better than most what’s expected however. The blinding fear she felt as she hung from a skyscraper window, or the shock and pain at seeing Harry’s ‘death’ in Hide’s office, both serve as a recurrent reminder of how intense being a detective can be.

Nevertheless, she hasn’t felt as alive as she did doing all of that in years, and it gives her a rush that only pokémon training ever did. She tries to remember that this must mean that she’s pursuing the right path.

*

"Let's go furniture shopping today," Harry says to her in the kitchen that next weekend, for the second time. It's spoken like a suggestion but she can read in his tone that he's trying to offer her the chance to change her mind from before.

It’s exactly the leap of faith she needs to take.

"Okay," She replies to him, with a nervous smile.

It might not seem like much in that moment, but his whole face lighting up in response tells her that this is the right thing to do.

It’s time for her to actually start building some permanent foundations for her future in the city.

Their trip to the Ryme City home fittings store (which is ten times bigger than any furniture shop back home), turns out to be an actually really fun experience.

She hasn’t really gone out of her way to spend time with Harry recreationally, but at the store she begins to remember all of their old trips to various league battles, and why she enjoyed them so much. He’s funny and sarcastic, similar to her own sense of humour, but he never talks down to her, like other older adults might. She reckons it’s because he’s generally still a bit of a mess compared to other people- if the student-like coffee addiction, and apparent inability to get anywhere on time are indicators. She doesn’t mind it though. It makes him more real and human, compared to the vague concept of him she’d carried in her head for so long.

At one point when they were browsing through the aisles, Harry points out some pillows to her.

“What do you think of these?” He asked, holding them up and letting Pikachu nuzzle them with his head, “Blue is your favourite colour- uh, unless it’s changed since.” He adds sheepishly.

“No,” She corrects, surprised that he still remembers, “It’s still blue. And they’re nice, I like them.”

He chuckles as he throws them into the basket, winking at her.

“Good to know some things haven’t changed.” 

She can’t help but agree with him.

Later that evening they're both sprawled out on the floor, bits of disassembled furniture everywhere, respective mugs of coffee in front of them, as they try to make sense of all the hundreds of pieces that came with the new bed frame. 

Harry’s reading the leaflet that came with it, head tilted and eyes narrowed, muttering under his breath to himself every so often.

"Dad?" she asks him hesitantly, the word feeling unfamiliar in her mouth. She doesn't think she's said it out loud in years, and definitely not to Harry since she was twelve.

He quickly looks up from the instructions that he was previously frowning at, startled.

“Yes?” He asks, looking confused, but not in a bad way. If anything, once he realises the world isn’t ending, he looks pleased, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. He’s obviously trying to make her feel more at ease by acting nonchalant about it, but she can see his eyes sparkling at her. 

'What did you do whenever you had an argument with Mum? Like, how did you fix it?"

His eyes soften at the mention of his wife, but there's a glint of amusement too.

“Hmm well,” He rests his chin on his hand, “Well firstly I always had to admit that she was right about whatever we were arguing about. And then just apologise- but like a lot of apologies were needed normally. And you have to really mean it too, and try and demonstrate that in your actions.”

She nods, already knowing that she’s definitely going to have to admit that she was in the wrong (she kind of was to be fair).

“If it’s really bad I’d maybe try surprising her with something nice kid. Never hurts to try the whole flower and chocolates route.”

She puts on her best poker face. “Who ever said that I needed to apologise to anyone?”

He laughs at that, rolling his eyes at the ceiling. 

“Sure, bud. Good luck with it, yeah?"

Later, when she’s heading down the hallway, from the bathroom to her room, she hears him chatting with PIkachu, who’s making chirping noises that can only mean Harry’s tickling him playfully.

“Dad, huh?” She hears him say as she catches a glimpse of him rubbing the pokémon’s head thoughtfully, “That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

*

It’s lunch time and Tim is anxiously waiting in the elevator going up to Lucy’s office at CMN. After reflecting on Harry’s advice, she decided that although she wasn’t really a flowers and chocolate kind of girl, she could do the surprise and apology bit. She’s kind of regretting it now. This could be a terrible idea. Lucy might hate seeing her. Things could already be over between them.

She taps her foot nervously against the floor, and breathes out heavily. She’s lucky that she even managed to get in here. The receptionist had seemed unimpressed when she’d tried explaining to her that she was here to see Lucy.

The woman had peered over her glasses, pursing her red lips, and looked Tim up and down like she was dirt. “And who are you?”

“Uhh,” Tim had fidgeted with her hands nervously, “I’m Tim Goodman- but there’s not an appointment, umm… I’m here to surprise Lucy, I’m her girlfriend? I mean, only if she decides she wants me to be, so maybe I’m just her friend, I don’t know. It’s all a bit-”

The woman holds up a hand indicating she’s done listening to Tim. Nevertheless, she does hand over Tim a lift pass with either an amused or judgey eyebrow quirk. She can’t really tell. 

That’s probably a security risk. Maybe she should say something about that. Especially now that she works with the police, right? Tim could be lying about who she is- she could really be anyone. But anyway, at least she’s here and it got her in. She’ll worry about Lucy’s workplace’s security later. 

The elevator pings as it reaches her floor, and she steps out, awkwardly smiling at the others still in the lift who clearly have no idea what she’s doing here.

She heads toward Lucy’s office, and knocks on the door with her name on it.

“Yes?” She hears Lucy call out, her voice sounding tired.

She slowly pushes the door open and pokes her head round. 

It’s a fancy office, with lots of windows- quite the upgrade from before- but she barely looks around, focusing on Lucy.

The other girl doesn’t look unhappy to see her, but she doesn’t look pleased either. If anything, she looks a bit cautious.

Tim,” She greets, closing her laptop, “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, hi,” She greets. She can feel beads of sweat on her forehead, her heart pounding. She tries to give a smile, but it might be more of a nervous grimace. “I wanted to come and apologise.”

Lucy’s face evens out at that, but she folds her arms expectantly.

“Oh?”

Tim nods, letting herself pace across the carpet a little.

“Yes. I’m really sorry for how I treated you. I wasn’t thinking properly, and even though I didn’t mean to be a dick, I still was one so… I’m really sorry.”

The blonde’s gaze softens a bit but she still looks apprehensive. “Thanks for that, Tim. Is that all you came to say then or?” 

Tim pauses, breathing in, and there’s disappointment in Lucy’s eyes.

She shakes her head, steeling herself, “No- actually I wanted to surprise you with lunch. But- then I didn’t want to buy you something in case you’d already eaten? And besides, it’s nicer to go out somewhere outside of the office- but only if you want to of course. I mean if you say no, that’s fine- I mean it’s disappointing but, obviously I messed up and-”

"Is this going to be a date then?" Lucy interrupts her nervous rambling, the corners of her mouth twitching up in a grin.

Tim takes a deep breath and answers. "Yes."

Lucy looks taken aback for a moment with the directness of Tim’s answer. She recovers quickly however, and flushes, looking pleased.

"Alright then," She reaches up and grabs Tim's collar, pulling her in for a kiss. It’s perhaps meant to be chaste and quick, but once Lucy has her hands intertwined in Tim’s hair, she can’t help but deepen the kiss, letting her hands reach up and around Lucy’s waist, pulling the other girl closer.

She also can’t stop herself from smiling against Lucy’s lips, thinking that maybe lunch can wait for a little bit.

Things are going to be okay.

*  
.  
.  
.

She smiles and waves at her coworkers as she leaves work, zipping up her coat as she scans her pass and exits the building, the cool night air hitting her. 

Tim closes her eyes, and breathes in for a moment, smelling the usual evening cooking and summer smells that she’s come to love and associate with Ryme City. The sound of various different pokémon are echoing all around here, happily conversing with their partners. It’s still bright out, the sun having not yet set, and she starts heading along her usual walk home with a spring in her step.

She can’t believe that she’s been here for almost two months. After an initial bumpy start, the time has flown by. Her dad and her had finished redecorating her room, into something much more grown up and comfortable. The apartment is finally beginning to feel like home now, and when she wakes up in the middle of the night, it doesn’t take her five minutes anymore to remember where she is. 

Work is going even better. Despite her misgivings, Tim had made it through the initial detective training. Once she’d managed to get to grips with the laws and procedures, it turns out her attention to detail and research skills actually came in handy in detective work. She’s interning at the actual police precinct now, sitting in on cases and getting experience. Sometimes she even gets to work with Harry, which initially was strange, but by now has become something she actually looks forward to. He seems at his happiest when he’s working on a case, but even more so when he gets to work with her. Tim might not be a pokémon trainer like she wanted when she was a kid, but she’s finally found a job that she seems to actually enjoy. 

Her relationship with Lucy almost seems like more than she deserves, but even that is going well too. She’s never been this happy with someone before. Lucy is headstrong, stubborn and will never back down from an argument, but she’s also caring, honest and dependable. It’s become a habit for them to spend their lunch break together if they can, and it’s one of her favourite times of the day. They even get to see each other through work sometimes- it turns out that investigative journalism and police work overlaps more than Tim thought. It’s good to have someone they trust on the media side of things, with an ear to the ground, and an endless list of sources. Although Lucy might have a tendency to get more involved than she necessarily should (Tim has tried to reign her back but to little success). When it comes to finding her next big story, there’s no stopping her. 

Speaking of Lucy, she checks her phone to find a message from her girlfriend.

**are you finished at work? It’s ur birthday so u can’t stay late doing paperwork!! x**

She smiles as she reads it, before replying with the affirmative and putting her phone back in her pocket. 

It’s her twenty third birthday today. It’s strange to think that when she’d found the birthday card from Harry, it was originally intended for her to receive today. So much has changed since then.

She has never liked making a big deal out of birthdays. It didn’t really make much sense too, considering that she had no parents to celebrate it with. She’d tried explaining this to Lucy, but the other girl had demanded that Tim keep the evening free. Maybe they’ll go out for dinner and drinks. That would be nice.

Harry had already wished her a happy birthday this morning, before they both headed off to the station. He’d surprised her with tickets to the Pokémon Battle World Championships- something she’d always dreamed of going to as a kid. She’d surprised herself by how excited she actually was to go. It would be like one of their day trips from when she was a kid.

As she makes her way up the apartment stairs, she opens her phone, thinking that maybe she’ll see where Lucy is now. She’s unlocking the front door absent-mindedly, drafting a message.

“SURPRISE!” is suddenly being yelled at her by multiple voices as soon as she steps through the door. She almost drops her phone, gripping her chest in surprise. 

“What the fu-” 

The lights come on and she’s greeted by the sight of her friends and family, standing in the apartment, which has been decorated with banners and balloons. She’s stunned. 

There’s all her new friends from work, smiling at her- did they all leave early to get here on time? She’s a terrible detective for not noticing that. Her dad and Lucy are at the front of the group, grinning mischievously, and looking way too proud of themselves. It’s ridiculous how well they get on- she regrets letting them get to know each other so well. They both enjoy scheming things like this at her expense far too much. Pikachu and Pyshduck are both wearing tiny party hats beside them, looking extra adorable. Even Hide is there, standing close to Harry, Snubbull seeming slightly less disinterested than usual. 

The best and biggest surprise however, is made apparent to her when she looks to the right of the group. Her grandmother and Jack are also standing there, faces beaming. She can feel her mouth falling open in shock, eyes widening as everybody laughs at her response. 

There might be a few tears shed on her part, as she hugs her best friend and greets everyone else. Everyone very kindly doesn’t comment on it. 

“How long have you been planning this?” She asks her dad and Lucy, after the shock wears off and she’s thanked and greeted everyone. The party is in full swing, music softly playing in the background. It’s probably the nicest birthday party she’s ever had.

They both grin at her, clearly impressed with themselves.

“It was Lucy’s idea,” Harry shrugs at her, trying to play it cool, “I just suggested inviting Grams and Jack. Figured that would make it more special.”

She’s blinking away tears all over again, and pulls him in for a hug. He squeezes her firmly, his embrace warm and welcome. 

“Thank you,” she says softly to him, and he smiles at her, slightly embarrassed and overwhelmed, waving Lucy over so he can compose himself.

As Harry turns away, giving them some privacy, Lucy moves forward, grabbing her hand and staring at Tim through her lashes. She’s wearing that smug, satisfied look that she gets when she’s been proven right, or hits upon a new lead, or sometimes when they’re alone together and she’s surprised Tim in entirely different, and alluring ways. 

It’s gorgeous, and Tim can’t help but kiss her softly yet intensely.

“So where’s my birthday present then?” She asks amusedly against Lucy’s lips, quirking an eyebrow.

Lucy pulls away slightly and smirks at her.

“Well…” She says, deliberating on purpose, “I was thinking we could try and find you a pokémon partner this week. If that’s something you’d be interested in. I know a few breeders.”

Tim thinks about this for a moment. Beforehand, she’d have recoiled at the suggestion that she get a partner. However, her childhood memories of pokémon training, tainted after everything that happened, have been slowly but surely replaced with something new, and entirely more pleasant. Meeting various pokémon at her job, and learning how to work alongside them has been enlightening and enjoyable. The nights where she wakes up to Pikachu curled up beside her are comforting, and the days that she spends playing with him, under Harry’s amused gaze, are some of her most cherished moments. 

“I’d like that,” She replies, and pulls Lucy back in for another kiss.

**end.**  
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

**Author's Note:**

> i see ur emotionally dysfunctional harry goodman fics, and raise u my emotionally dysfunctional tim goodman 
> 
> i was gna put a lot more here but i decided that no one rly cares anyway and if u wanna talk more hmu in the comments, but i hope u enjoyed (if u did pls let me know- i'd love to hear ur feedback! :) )
> 
> also i debated giving tim her pokemon before the end, but decided against it, but if ur curious her pokmon partner is a vulpix (fire type just seemed appropriate)


End file.
